


Bruises and Bitemarks

by Snarkysin (SWAWindsong)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Bondage, Light BDSM, M/M, Porn With Plot, Psychotropic Drugs, Smut, Sort of at least, magical strike, song and a ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 14:53:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5630545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SWAWindsong/pseuds/Snarkysin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magical Strike AU - with a twist.  Alfred is the son of a prominent company owner where Arthur works as an intern.  Despite the length of time they've known each other and the numerous physical activities together, Alfred might not know Arthur as well as he thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruises and Bitemarks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zombiepurplefox](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=zombiepurplefox).



> I'm assuming Arthur and Alfred have seen each other's pertinent medical records, aren't overly promiscuous, and have appropriate lube. Just didn't see fit to talk about it during the story this time. It's there in the background. Safe sex kids. Also, I did not write it with smut quality in mind. It's just kind of there, lingering with little direction.
> 
> Finally, this is told in a series of flashbacks for anyone that finds they are confused. It's intentional.

Smoke and heavy perfume filled the air, mixing with the hot musk of the two bodies crushed against the cinder blocks painted black. The scent filled Alfred’s nose as he inhaled the club atmosphere, clogging his already adrenaline and lust filled brain with further confusion. It was damn near sensory overload, but who would have even cared when all the information went straight down to his legs, setting his thighs on fire. 

Arthur gasped as Alfred’s teeth sunk into his neck, burying themselves in the tender flesh, tasting the salt from the fresh sheen of sweat. The no longer graceful and somehow more alluring neck that was unburdened of its usual collared shirt and tie. In response, Arthur ripped Alfred’s jacket over his shoulders, catching it at his elbows and pinning his arms to the sides. Alfred’s fingers twitched from the restraint, but there were other means of attacking his prey. 

He tilted his weight forward, hip bone burying itself in the large studs of Arthur’s belt buckle. Alfred’s knee shoved between his thighs. The heat from Arthur’s body flowed from the rip in his jeans, through Alfred’s own business pants, and made contact with the sensitive skin on the inside of his leg. Arthur made a low noise and Alfred released his neck, breathing in the scent of his sweat and the faint smell of beer that hung in the air. 

“Do you know how hot you look right now?” Alfred whispered into his ear, ensuring that he blew a sufficiently sexy amount of hot air into behind Arthur’s ear. He could feel Arthur shiver underneath him from the breath, and Alfred’s heart raced even harder.

“I have an idea. You should have seen your face.”

Arthur tugged the jacket the rest of the way down his back, freeing Alfred’s arms which were immediately used to pin Arthur down even further. One arm pressed into his sides, clutching the fabric of the loose shirt he was wearing. The opposite hand gripped the side of his face under the ear, holding his head still as Alfred took the other ear between his teeth. He bit down harder than he probably meant to, but now Arthur was teasing him and he wanted payback. 

Instead of the small squeak he was used to, Alfred was rewarded with an unrestrained moan.

***

“You know, you really should dress more professionally at work. I don’t know why your father lets you work here dressed like that. This is supposed to be a serious business.”

“Yeah, and? It’s not like we’re any less rich or like he going to disown me because of the way I choose to dress.”

“It’s not about that. It’s about public appearances. How other people see you and judge you. Whether or not you like it, people are always judging you. It’s not something you can escape just because you’re rich. In fact, being rich makes it worse.”

Alfred scoffed, watching as Arthur tucked in his shirt before re-buttoning his pants. 

“And what’s with that purple strip of hair and that star on your cheek? Do you really spend every morning painting that thing on? And why purple? Why your hair? Can’t it be more discrete?”

The questions were wearing him down. It was the same thing every time. Arthur never stopped pestering him about Alfred’s ‘unprofessional’ manner of dress and how he chose to accent his look. Alfred and Matthew had dressed like this since before Arthur had come to the company mere months ago. It had become a staple look for them, and not anything he was planning on changing anytime soon. No matter how annoying Arthur’s incessant barrage of questions and accusations were. 

Seriously, Alfred just wanted an office quickie while no one was paying attention. It was a lot of fun having sex at work. The threat of being caught, the juicy gossip, the thrill of the other employees figuring it out, even though no one could have done anything. Arthur, on the other hand, was risking his job. 

“People like the edgy look.”

“I am well aware. That doesn’t make it acceptable for the workplace.”

“You’re such a drag, Artie,” Alfred said, throwing his head back in an exaggerated motion of exasperation. “Loosen up! Maybe even try it for once in your life.”

Without a word Arthur raised an eyebrow, turned on his heel and marched out of Alfred’s office slamming the door behind him. The action startled Alfred. Arthur wasn’t the type to get angry and he definitely wasn’t the type to do anything that would draw attention to their indecent workplace activities. 

Fear spread through his body like butter melting in a frying pan which then started sizzling, frying his brain of anything that was related to the work he should have been doing. 

***

The overpowering thump of the bass already had his nerves on end, but the loud moan was throwing Alfred over the edge faster than a car speeding off a cliff. They were no doubt going to attract attention now.

He pushed a nearby door open and found a large closet inside. It wasn’t just a closet though, there was a garish orange couch off to the side, but it was large enough for three or four people. Good enough. Actually, more than he expected. 

Arthur was still attached to him by the ear in his teeth, panting now as the air cleared of the smoke and heavy stench of the nightclub inside the closet. Alfred closed the door behind them and continued to mouth down Arthur’s neck, sucking hard to leave hickeys were they wouldn’t be visible later.

“Lock the door,” Arthur said, pushing Alfred off of him.

“But we never lock the door.”

“That’s because we’re usually in an office where people aren’t constantly trying to use the same room for their own debauchery. And for whatever reason, you like the suspense of leaving the door unlocked. It’s not like that here though.” As if on cue the door handle began to rattle, and Alfred kept it closed with his foot before locking it. “For fuck’s sake, Alfred. What do you think this room is for?”

Alfred could feel his own eyes dilating as he took in Arthur’s plump, red lips. His stomach lurched from hunger, but not the kind that could be satiated with food.

“Say that again.”

Arthur’s gaze sharpened, and trained themselves on Alfred’s own. “What?”

“Say it again, Arthur.” He could feel his grip tightening on Arthur’s arms, but he couldn’t have stopped himself from squeezing even if he had wanted to.

“What the fuck…” Alfred caught Arthur’s mouth in his own, tasting the remnants of the filthy words that had crossed the previously unadulterated mouth. At least, unknowingly unadulterated. Alfred watched as the criticism seeped away from Arthur’s harsh stare, softening his features until they were almost how Alfred was used to them. Almost. 

There was still a glint of mischief that he wasn’t used to. 

***

“What on earth are you calling me back up here for? Once a day, you know the rules! People might start getting suspicious…or…more suspicious.”

“Shhhh, shh, I know, I know. I was just…” Alfred sighed. “I just wanted to talk.”

With Arthur angry at him, Alfred wasn’t sure how to handle himself. He wasn’t used to the feeling of not wanting to make someone upset. People had bent over backwards for him his whole life. Even Arthur had been the same way when he started working at the company. But he soon had Alfred figured out. Even if his job was on the line, Arthur knew Alfred wasn’t the type of person to use that against him. No matter how much he threatened or pretended. 

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset about the way I dress though! You seem to like it enough.” 

Arthur’s face conveyed the utmost contempt and pure boredom. What else did Arthur expect him to do? Alfred was trying to ask, but he wasn’t getting any answers.

“Francis fucking dresses like a girl every day for crying out loud! I don’t see you getting on his case about it!” 

“Language! Francis is also the one responsible for this pointless strike that has been giving the company a bad name recently. Believe it or not, I hold you to a higher standard than him although I’m beginning to question why I do that at all. For goodness sake, we don’t even have half the men working now and we’re expected to continue on like nothing is wrong.”

Alfred didn’t know what to say anymore. He had no idea where the leverage started and ended, no idea on earth what sort of angle he should be approaching this from. The longer Arthur stared at him, the less he felt like this was going to be resolved. Finally Arthur spoke up. 

“It’s not about the way you dress…”

“Then what the hell is it? I don’t understand!” Seriously, what the hell could it be at all? Was it the fact that Alfred never had to work a day in his life to get the job he had? Was it the fact that he was voted New York’s most eligible bachelor? Alfred had no idea. Arthur was just like some crazy woman that he never understood, being angry at nothing in particular.

“You don’t know the first thing about me, Alfred F. Jones.” 

Alfred felt his arm go cold, blood froze in his veins at the use of his full name. He tried desperately to think of something that would show he knew who Arthur was, but thinking back, he didn’t know him at all beyond the office. The two of them used the ‘office’ for more physical activities than getting to know anything about each other. He had trouble scraping up Arthur’s favorite food or drink, although he was sure Arthur had brought lunch into his office once or twice. Hell, he wasn’t sure he could remember his last name. 

Maybe he didn’t know Arthur then. 

“Then show me!” He gathered every ounce of convincing energy he could muster to try and act as though he was interested. Alfred didn’t see the appeal of going to this old geezer’s house in all honesty. Arthur seemed like the kind of guy who drank tea and crocheted doilies in his spare time. But if it meant Arthur wouldn’t be angry with him anymore, Alfred could fake it for a while. 

Arthur’s response was to quirk an eyebrow at him as his face assumed that ‘you’re an idiot’ expression once again. It was starting to become annoying. 

***

The door rattled yet again as someone else tested it to see if the room was occupied. Alfred thanked Arthur for making him lock the door. 

Of course, it wasn’t out loud. That would have ruined the mood as Arthur was currently bent over the sofa, cursing under his breath as Alfred rammed into him over and over. They were both sweating hard now, Arthur’s thin tank top hung off of one shoulder. Alfred couldn’t see much since his glasses had been discarded, but he could see the dark top contrast with Arthur’s pale skin. The line if the shirt wasn’t as straight as it should have been, even without his glasses. It looked like some sort of anomaly between Arthur’s shirt and his back. 

Alfred wanted to get a closer look. He leaned forward, causing Arthur to inhale and hiss, cursing louder than before. 

The Molly finally hit Alfred’s blood stream causing his pulse to pound harder. It felt like he didn’t even have ribs to restrain his untamed heart any longer. The music which had been nothing more than a dull roar behind the close door was clearer now. The rhythmic pulse of the bass guitar joined the overflowing rush of need coursing through his body. Even the dimly lit room and the ugly couch seemed more intense. The cushions were flecked with drops of their sweat and saliva, producing small rainbows of color. 

“Shit, Arthur. Oh my god.” Alfred’s spine tingled and his stomach began to flare with the most intense pleasure he had ever experienced. 

“What, have you never taken Molly?”

Alfred couldn’t speak, the burning lust that was rolling on waves in the pit of his stomach were keeping most of his attention. He tried to answer the question though, by shaking his mouth against Arthur’s back. Lips stuck to the skin as his head lolled from side to side. 

There was a deep sound rumbling beneath him. Vibrations from Arthur’s laughter spilled over into a more high pitched tone as it broke his lips. Alfred could feel all the muscles in his body clench. No, it was more than that. It was every fiber of his being. And it wasn’t just tightening. It was catching on fire, burning every inch of his body with brightly colored, unnatural flames. 

The laughter turned back into moans of pleasure and then into a shuddering groan of release. Alfred lay there for a moment, relishing in the sensations, feeling Arthur’s sweat cool against the side of his cheek. 

“Come on, we have to move or they’ll kick us out.” Arthur moved out from underneath Alfred and slipped back into his holey, skin tight jeans. Panic threatened to take Alfred over seeing Arthur put his clothes on. His heart caught in his throat and for all he could stand, he was close to tears. 

“What? No! We can’t stop now!”

“You bloody fucking idiot. No one said we were stopping. You were the one who wanted to get to know me.” Arthur took Alfred’s head in his hands, looking deep into his eyes. The green started at him with such intensity, for once in his life, Alfred forgot who he was altogether. Forgot that Arthur was the one who was at his mercy and not the other way around.

Arthur’s voice was heavy and silky on his ears, mixing with the sound of the band that was on stage at the moment. “Let’s go back to my place.” 

***

Arthur led the way as the two men headed down the streets of New York to lord only knows where. The black pavement glistened in the dark, still wet after a full day of rain. As the cars passed, the tires made a tiny splashing sound from the film of water on the road. 

Had it been a different day, Alfred might have been more talkative. However, after the argument from earlier, he was more concerned about overstepping his bounds. Especially since they weren’t at the office where Alfred had most of the control. Arthur was taking him somewhere other than his own home for now. A bar or something. Alfred hadn’t paid much attention at the time. 

In the silence, he was aware of all the people who were staring at him. Eyes darting up and down, taking in his full appearance. Next to the man in the tidy business suit, it must have looked awkward. The son of a prominent business owner with his furry collar high on his neck, the shock of purple in his bangs, walking with Arthur. Prim and proper Arthur. They might have thought Arthur was the business owner given his uptight manner of dress. 

They reached a thin, black door and Arthur turned to face Alfred.

“Now, I have to disappear for an hour or so. Go in, have a few drinks and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“What? You’re not even going to stay with me? I thought I was supposed to be getting to know you.” Alfred was ready to leave as it was, and now Arthur wasn’t even going to be around! 

Arthur looked like he was down to his last strand of patience. He heaved a sigh and looked away. 

“Could you just try and trust me for a little bit. You wanted to see who I was. Bringing you here is against everything I believe in. Despite everything telling me I shouldn’t be doing this, I’m going to show you anyway.”

Alfred didn’t buy it. Not really. But he was willing to entertain the idea that maybe Arthur was more than what he knew from the office. At least, he was willing to wait long enough to see Arthur actually was just a stick in the mud and perhaps have a few glasses of bourbon while he waited.

He agreed and they went into the bar. It was already clouded over with the usual fog of cigarette smoke that bars tended to have. Arthur did as he said he would and disappeared into the back, leaving Alfred to deal with all the eyes that found him out of place. 

More than once while he was waiting, a woman offered him a drink. Alfred didn’t see much of a reason to refuse them, so he would accept them with a sly wink towards the person who had bought it. If Arthur did turn out as dull as Alfred was thinking, then maybe he could take one of the women home instead. 

What he couldn’t figure out was why Arthur had taken him to a bar. It wasn’t even a nice bar. Sure, it was large enough, but everyone here looked like they were halfway between their goth phase and their punk phase. Even Alfred was having a hard time fitting in with his dyed hair, fake cheek tattoo, and gaudy long coat. Arthur definitely didn’t belong here in his pressed and dry cleaned pinstripe suit and tie. The place was packed from wall to wall with people in black miniskirts, spiked chokers, and more than one person wearing combat boots. 

As Alfred thought this, the colored lights towards the back of the bar flashed on, and an announcer began speaking into the microphone. 

“Welcome! Welcome! I hope everyone is ready for some music because we have some of your favorite bands here tonight!”

There was a riotous cheer from the crowd. Despite it being so early in the evening, the place was overflowing with people. Alfred assumed these bands must have been advertised and that’s why all these people were here. If they were good, maybe he’d buy Arthur a CD or something. Pretend like he cared. Although, with the way it was looking, Alfred thought there was a slim chance he might even like the band himself. 

“Without further ado, please welcome the boys with those wonderfully sexy British accents, The Kirkland Brothers!”

British accents? Maybe Arthur liked them because they were someone he knew then. Alfred sunk back into his seat, his expectations sinking with him. 

The band walked onto the stage to a rousing applause. Two of the members had red hair and were wearing dark outfits studded with metal spikes. A brunette appeared like he was the least interested in the whole shebang. He was wearing glasses that had the British flag imprinted on the lenses. All three of them looked like they were brothers, plus the band name lent itself to that conclusion. They bore a striking resemblance to Arthur as well. Alfred figured they must have been people Arthur knew then. 

Before the band was fully assembled, the crowd started chanting what was apparently the last name of the three brothers. The chorus of ‘Kirkland” repeated over and over was giving Alfred a headache, or maybe it was the alcohol and his bad temper at being left alone. After a few seconds of cheering while the band took their position, strapping on their bass guitars and toying with the drumsticks, Alfred realized the name seemed uncomfortably familiar. But he was having a hard time placing it…

“Now I know everyone has been dying to hear out little brother sing for a while…” the crowd burst into applause. The redhead laughed, teeth flashing in the lights.

“Yes yes, mum would be very proud to see what he’s become. Well, I’m sorry to say that he’s going to have to tone it down a bit tonight. You see, his boss is somewhere in the crowd tonight. He was hesitant to even perform at all…” the crowd booed in response. The man raised his hands to quiet them down.

“He also said something about his boss being a real tosser? I don’t…uhh, I’m not really sure what that’s about.” The redhead grimaced and made all the appropriate gestures for the story he was telling and the crowd was eating it up. Alfred wasn’t interested, he just wanted them to start playing so he could decide if he should leave already or not. And where was Arthur anyway? Wasn’t his hour up?

“Without further ado, please put your fish and crisps down and welcome the youngest of the Kirkland Brothers, Arthur!”

Alfred shouted at the realization, but it was swallowed up by the crowd’s boisterous cheering and applause. Just as introduced, Arthur bounded up to the microphone, electric guitar slung around his back. He wasn’t wearing his usual business suit anymore. Instead, he was wearing a loose black tank top with a British flag on it, tight black pants that shimmered in the light and had a spattering of holes in them, and a large belt with more of the metal studs. His glasses were gone and his hair had gel in it to make it messier than it usually was. 

When he stepped onto the stage, Arthur flipped the crowd the middle finger. His arms clattered next to the mic as the bangles on his arms jangled with the force of the motion. While his finger still raised, Arthur declared, “That’s for my pompous boss who thinks I don’t have enough…what’s that word you guys use? Swag?” 

There was a murmur of assent from the crowd, so Arthur continued, “Who thinks I don’t have enough swag for him. Screw you, you bloody bastard.”

It occurred to Alfred that he really didn’t know Arthur at all as his glass shattered on the floor in front of him. 

***

Arthur tumbled out of the closet before Alfred, there was a line of people at this point. Everyone was staring at Alfred now. His fur collared jacket was slung over his arm, but he was still wearing the collared shirt and tie and business pants he wore underneath. Everyone seemed to be wondering the same thing. Was Arthur really sleeping with the boss he had flipped off during the show?

The two made their way through the small gathering of people. As they were about to enter the main portion of the bar again, one of the strangers shouted, telling Arthur that he picked a hottie. Alfred smiled to himself. 

It felt strange to be smiling for genuine reasons and not in an attempt to win anyone’s favor. Sort of felt nice. 

They made their way through the throng of people still littering the club to watch the next band. Alfred had straightened up in the closet somewhat, but Arthur clearly looked like someone who had just been fucked in a closet in the back. There were whoops and hollers as they left the club, night air hitting Alfred in the face like a wall of ice. The cool humidity felt nice after spending a good chunk of the evening in the stuffy club.

Arthur hailed a taxi and Alfred couldn’t seem to remove his mouth from his neck as the battered, yellow car pulled over. The whole ride home, they rocked the taxi with their forceful make out session. 

When they got out, Alfred paid the driver. He was stopped when the driver demanded compensation for having to listen to their ‘homosexual baby making’ in the back. Alfred wasn’t about to part with any more money. He might be rich, but he was also stingy. Plus, the man was a homophobic asshole who didn’t deserve the money. Beside him, Arthur pulled out a hundred dollar bill that was tucked into his pants.

“Where did that come from?”

Arthur shrugged. “Someone shoved it in there as we were leaving.”

“Then why are you working for dad’s company if you can throw around that much money like it’s nothing?”

Again, Arthur shrugged. The night kept getting more and more bizarre. When Arthur said Alfred was going to learn about him, he really meant it. Problem was, Alfred wasn’t sure what he was learning anymore.

He followed Arthur up the stairs of the New York apartment complex that lay on the outskirts of the city. As they walked up the stairs, this time they were silent for an entirely different reason that they had been earlier in the evening. Alfred was trying to process everything he was finding out about Arthur, but it just didn’t make sense.

Was he really this punk rocker by night? Did he actually have a lot of money? What did his apartment look like then? Alfred began to drool as he thought about how much Arthur seemed to enjoy the hard bites Alfred had been placing on his body at the club. Maybe he could be even rougher than he had been that night.

When Arthur opened the door to his apartment, Alfred once again had every expectation shattered. 

It was a nice, quaint apartment. Fully furnished with respectable couches complete with throw pillows. Wall decorations that must have cost a pretty penny, but all of it looked elegant. No doilies though. Just a proper household, fit for a perfect gentleman and a businessman. At least here Alfred wouldn’t have to worry about being interrupted by a horde of people who all wanted the make-out closet to fuck each other in. 

Alfred raised an eyebrow at Arthur.

“What, did you expect me to live in a place like that club? You should know me better than that by now. People come over to my house, Alfred. Respectable people. I can’t have it looking like some punk-ass kid lives here.”

Alfred was the one who shrugged this time before he walked over to the fridge. He was starting to get hungry. The drugs that Arthur had given him were still in his system, but the arrival at the apartment had killed the mood.

“It’s simple enough to balance though. Normal guests aren’t allowed into my bedroom.”

It took a moment, but the meaning of the words finally hit Alfred upside the head. Blood began rushing towards his lower half again.

***

Alfred’s eyes never left Arthur’s slim figure. The band wasn’t just good, it was freaking amazing. He had no idea that Arthur could sing like that either. Or play the guitar. Or had any sense of rhythm whatsoever. Arthur really was more than he appeared to be at the office. 

And damn, the way he moved was sexy as hell. The nice thing about Alfred’s coat was that it hid boners really well. His face flushed watching Arthur sing and twist his body on the stage, as did the rest of his body.

He could almost taste those delicious hip bones between his teeth. There was no way he was leaving now. And there was no way he was leaving without fucking Arthur senseless. 

The performance seemed to drag on as Alfred got more and more turned on. He just wanted it to end so he could find Arthur, rip that ridiculous British flag off of his chest, and make him cum so hard he saw stars. But the crowd wasn’t with him tonight. It was swaying in Arthur’s favor. 

Alfred tried to distract himself by listening to the song they were singing. That was a huge mistake. The lyrics were as lewd as he could have ever imagined. He gritted his teeth and tried not to crush the new glass the bartender had handed him. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the band wrapped up their act. A few more words to the audience, another uproar from the crowd, and they finally disappeared backstage. 

Without waiting a moment longer, Alfred stood up and forced his way through the crowd. Some people yelled in offense as he shoved them out of the way. One even asked Alfred who he thought he was. Hell, he could buy this shit-hole of a bar any time he wanted to. But that wasn’t important at the moment. What Alfred needed to do was to find Arthur and make him understand how pissed and aroused Alfred was for not knowing about all of this sooner.

He broke into a room behind a curtain off to the side of the bar. There was one lone figure propped up against the wall. Tight pants silhouetted against the light from outside so that Alfred could clearly see the one leg kicked back onto the wall. Arthur’s green eyes turned to face him. He’d been expecting Alfred. 

Alfred pushed down any sense of embarrassment he might have felt and pressed Arthur hard against the nearest wall. 

***

Now this was more like it. 

Arthur was bound and gagged before him, arms held high over his head as he knelt on the bed. His wrists were bound by straps that connected to a mesh work that covered his bed. The whip in Alfred’s hand made him feel even more powerful than he did when they were at work. There might have been an invisible sense of power control before, but now it was all physical. And more real.

And Arthur was eating it up. He moaned loudly into the ball gag between his teeth. His head rolled to the side and stared at Alfred with a lust so deep, Alfred could feel himself being consumed by it. 

One more crack sent another wave of pleasure to straight to his loins. God, Arthur looked so sexy. Especially when he was flinching in the intentional pain being inflicted on him by Alfred. And that strange spot underneath the tank top Alfred had notice earlier turned out to be a tattoo of an electric guitar. A real tattoo. One that made Alfred’s painted on star look like a joke. He’d never even seen it before. But then again, they usually had sex on top of a table with most of their clothes still on. Now, they were both completely naked. Alfred had never been turned on by the sight of someone’s exposed body like he had that night. 

Especially when that body belonged to Arthur Kirkland. The most interesting and fucking intriguing person Alfred had ever met. 

He couldn’t stand it anymore. Alfred stopped whipping Arthur and started sucking on his nipples instead. His hand slid up to undo the gag from Arthur’s mouth so he could hear the moans more clearly. 

Alfred moved Arthur so he could position himself under his ass. 

“Say it again.”

“Alfred, I really don’t understand what you want me to say again.”

“The f- word.”

Arthur started giggling, chest fluttering with the movement. “You want me to curse, and here you are not even saying it yourself.”

In response Alfred smacked his thigh hard, leaving another red whelp.

“Fuuuck.” It was long and drawn out and low, sending coils of fire into his abdomen. Arthur shuddered as Alfred forced his hips downward and onto his erect cock. God, it felt so good. The warmth and slight quiver of Arthur around him. 

He laid back against the pillows as Arthur rode him, still tied to the top of the bed. Still wonderfully naked. Alfred moaned as a faint whiff of leftover smoke and alcohol from the club reached his nose. A reminder of how the night had started and everything that had happened since this morning at work. This morning when Arthur had been nothing more than a booty call to keep Alfred occupied when he was bored out of his mind. 

And now, what had once been an easy fuck was so much more. He didn’t have words for it, and Alfred might never understand it at all. But the idea of Arthur having a side of him that he kept hidden made another wave of heat force itself into his stomach. The pale skin of Arthur’s torso caught the light from the living room. It wasn’t marked enough.

Alfred leaned up, and began biting Arthur’s rib cage under his arm. A string of ‘fucks’ loosed themselves from Arthur’s mouth, each one driving Alfred further into his desperate madness. 

He began to lose his grip on Arthur’s ribs as his skin burned. Instead of holding on with his mouth, Alfred latched onto Arthur’s hips with his hands, forcing him harder down onto his cock. Arthur began tensing and soon it was more than Alfred could handle. He released into Arthur’s ass, his mind cloudy with lust and the words that were driving him insane. 

Once Arthur had fallen asleep, Alfred slipped out of the apartment. It was nice to be welcomed into such a haven and fuck him silly. But once they were done, he didn’t feel like he had a place there anymore. 

***

Rumor was that the two office fuck buddies had broken it off. Something about work overlapping into their personal lives. Of course everyone had known. Neither of them had been subtle about it. But it had been a month since then, and Alfred no longer called Arthur up to his office once a day. There were no more obscene noises that emanated from the room either. 

Alfred waited as patiently as he could. It was the end of the workday and he had refrained from calling Arthur into his office the whole day. Again. He couldn’t take it anymore though. Alfred needed to see him again. Especially today.

Arthur pushed the door open, his usual reserved self back in place. There was no indication of the night at the club when Alfred had found out who Arthur was behind the scenes. Who he was away from the professional atmosphere of the office. 

When he finally looked up, Alfred could see the confusion in his eyes.

“What happened? What’s going on?”

Alfred smiled. He was content to let Arthur figure this one out on his own.

“Your hair…the star…and where’s your jacket?” He stood silent for a moment, a flabbergasted look etched into Arthur’s face. “Did you really take my advice and try to look more professional?”

“You like it?”

Arthur narrowed his eyes, and made his way to the front of Alfred desk. Instead of stopping, he crawled on top of it with his hands and knees. A smirk graced his face when Alfred’s eyes widened at the gesture. Arthur stopped a mere breath away from his face. 

“I think you know what I like.”

“Well thank God, because I can’t stand this! Can we please go somewhere where they don’t make you act like sex doesn’t exist and the only thing that matters is looking like a perfect, porcelain doll?”

Arthur gave him an evil smile. 

“Bring the jacket.”

Alfred reached into a drawer in his desk to pull out what had once been his signature jacket. Of course they were still seeing each other. They were simply more low-key about it now. Beyond the people at Arthur’s club, there wasn’t a single soul who knew they were still together. Except perhaps those taxi drivers when they couldn’t restrain themselves anymore. There might be rumors, hushed whispers from people who lived similar lives and could spot their facade, but there wouldn’t be many of those. At least, not that they would run into when it was time for business.

What Alfred didn’t expect was how much fun it would be to keep a secret from the whole world. Arthur’s impressive secret, now their shared secret. Now, a part of Alfred’s identity that would exist far beyond the scope of the boring, overly-strict, business world that didn’t deserve to know who he was.

**Author's Note:**

> I had to take a shower after writing this.


End file.
